


029 - The Soundcheck Video

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Mini Fic, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: A fic about: The video for Soundcheck. And Van McCann.





	029 - The Soundcheck Video

**Author's Note:**

> Malia James, who directed Soundcheck, is a gift to humankind. What she calls Van in this fic, that’s a real quote. See her Instagram for proof. Also, the video for Soundcheck makes me feel a lot of things.

You were sitting on a bench against the wall with Larry. Van and the rest of the guys were standing in the middle of the room with their equipment. You knew the video would be monochrome, and you could see how the contrast between their dark clothes and amps, and the walls would be aesthetically on point. The camera had been twirling around them all day, and Malia called action again.

You had a little bit of crush on her. She was talented, outspoken, and cared about the same things you did. You were ecstatic when Van told you she was directing Soundcheck. "See! This is why you're such good guys. You surround yourself with incredible women," you told him. He laughed and pulled you closer to him.

"Like you?" he asked.

"No! Well, yeah, but no. Like Malia. And Leah,"

"July Talk Leah?"

"Yeah. I love her,"

"I know," he replied, smiling.

"And I love Malia," you continued and he nodded again. You liked women almost as much as Van did. "And I guess you're also okay," you finished.

As she called action and playback sounded, the camera focused on Van. It was the breakdown, and he was meant to crouch down and sing directly into the camera. On the monitor you and Larry watched him. You were always in awe of how professional Van could be. Most of the time he was the human embodiment of a golden retriever puppy. He was ridiculous and amusing and beautiful. Watching him on the small screen made you feel proud of him for being this too. It wasn't like he was more one than the other, Van was both. Inside of him existed that dichotomy, and you were very into it.

Malia called cut, and a 5 minute break. She walked over to you and pulled you aside.

"Were you watching that?" she asked. You nodded. "So, it's good, he's good, but I need more. I need him to look into that camera like he looks at you. I need that intense Van-McCann-I'm-going-bang-you-against-this-table look." She was dead serious. You felt a redness bloom over your cheeks.

"What… do you want me… to do?" you asked slowly.

"I don't know. Make him want to get this done and take you home. He's your boyfriend. I have faith!" she said cheerily, and walked away. She high-fived Van in passing as he walked to you.

"What was that?" he asked with his playful-suspicious tone. You shrugged.

"I need some air. Can you take me outside for a minute," you asked. He nodded, took your hand and lead you through the room. Malia winked at you on your way out.

Outside was warmer than you expected. It was cold down between the cement walls you were filming in. You took off your jacket and hung it over the railing of the stairwell you and Van stood in. He leant against the wall and pulled out a cigarette. You quickly crossed the few feet between you and pulled it out from between his lips. His hands were frozen in the cup they had formed to shield the lighter from the breeze. He looked at you with a blank expression.

"Tastes gross," you explain. "You said you'd quit."

"I'm trying. That's the first one all day," he said in his defence.

"I will give you a present if you don't smoke this one." You tried to make your voice come out with a purr, and you didn't really know if you succeed. He grinned though. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer.

"What kind of present?"

"Whatever you want," you replied. He leant his head against your shoulder and you kissed his neck. When he didn't move, you kept going. A little line of kisses and bites and sucks and licks. You pressed him back oto the wall by letting yourself fall into him. You could feel him getting hard through his jeans. Then, the door opened.

"Gross. We're starting again," Larry said quickly and closed the door behind him. You pulled away from Van, and he audibly whined. You took his hand and walked him back to the others. You could feel how awkward his movements were. When he stood in front of the camera and you took your seat next to Larry again, Van looked wild. His hair was a little more ruffled, his pupils had expanded, and he moved liked a caged tiger.

Malia had to literally click her fingers in front of him to get his attention; he was still watching you. She directed him, and put herself back behind the main monitor. She chucked you a quick thumbs up. The music played and you watched.

The camera swooped around him as he sung. He stalked towards it, holding his guitar to the side. He stared straight down it and you could feel that look. The camera picked up his long eyelashes and his intensity. Your favourite shot was taken from the side as he sung with his eyes closed, holding one hand up, doing that shaking-head thing he did. He started to bounce, moving backwards, then he did what he did best and absolutely freaked out.

As the final few frames were recorded, you stood next to Malia. She had her arm around your shoulders. "Thanks," she said with a knowing smile.

"Didn't do much," you replied.

"Yeah, well, you got your little spoonful of trouble all worked up now."

Your little spoonful of trouble was a crazy accurate description of him. The best part of that, though, was the your. As Van handed his guitar over to Larry and started to walk towards you, you knew you owed him. You both skipped the wrap up party and opted for a night in.


End file.
